I Guess What Life is Trying to Tell Me is that Two Burnt Pizzas are Better than No Pizza at All

This was supposed to be about one person. But a million things are running through my head right now.

First of all, the creep who snuck into the daycare in Indianapolis and had a private bikini fashion show is on the motherfucking national news. Goddammit. Why have we only been making the news for shitty stuff lately? First, "worst team in the NFL", now "the kook who put on a teeny tiny pink bikini and paraded around a daycare".

I sort of feel like I've had a lot of pent up anger lately. "Pent-up" isn't really the word. It's more like all-out frustration at the world in general, and not stupid problems that hippies whine about like global warming and animals being used for testing cosmetics on, just general little things that used to frustrate me on a small level, but now they make me want to dismember adorable kittens in a psychotic rage. I have utter unparalleled levels of rage for people who don't use their blinkers (this will be addressed at length in a future post). It's like I'm losing my nerve or something. Like my laid-back nature is slowly diminishing. But then again, I still don't really let stuff bother me. No, I can definitely pick my battles. Like, for example on Thursday. I COULD HAVE gotten angry that fuckhead Ginger exploded anchovies in the microwave and made the kitchen smell like filthy rotten pussy for a solid 25 minutes, but I chose to not let it fuck up my perfectly good shift. I think I'm just picking the wrong battles.

I think I'm ignoring the genuine problems and instead diffusing my anger onto lesser, more manageable problems. Like being pissed off about idiots who don't use their blinkers. Am I REALLY angry about that, or am I just pissed about Bob-o not loving me or Aqua Eyes staring at me like he wants to eat me (the good kind)? Well, I think I just answered my own question. Fuck me. Jesus. No wonder I hate everything.

 It's just like, why am I good enough to flirt with, fuck, or whatever, but why am I never good enough to be your actual girlfriend? I guess some other bitch just beat me to the finish line. I guess that's the real thing that makes me want to punch through drywall. But honestly, none of that really matters, because I got a Pillow Pet in my Halloween goodie bag and that's sort of like the Neosporin on my emotional papercuts for the moment. Baby steps, eh?

But really, what else can I do but get angry about the little things I can fix? It's not like I have the power to make either of them break up with their girlfriends. Or that they'd want to of their own free will, anyways. I'm just stuck between everything, is what I guess I'm trying to say. In constant limbo. Is what I feel real or do I make this shit up in my head? And why am I ALWAYS asking myself that question??

I once told Bob-o I feel like I'm just sitting around waiting for my life to happen. His reply was well, nothing's ever going to happen if you sit around and wait for it. So what the fuck do I do now that I went looking for an adventure and I have mud all over my face? Wipe it off, I suppose, but I'm going to be completely honest, it's getting old fast. And so is whining about how much being single sucks. Seriously, I'd rather be chewing a cereal bowl full of rusty nails and glass bits than be bitching that I'm fuckable but not datable. The glass is half full, but fuck me, being Little Mary Sunshine 24/7 is draining. Seriously. I think I've used up my Positive Points for the month. I need to go brood in my room under the covers for awhile now.

Also the lack of coffee is like someone directly inserting a sewing needle into my brain. Give me caffeine or give me death. They'll have to pry my Starbucks from my cold, dead hands. Gimpy liver be damned, that is the one vice I will not give up. They can have the cheese, but coffee is a battle that will be fought to the death.

So, in conclusion, I have no idea what to do about anything. Well, I can do homework, and go to work, and sleep. But everything else is just one big pile of peanuty, nougaty clusterfuck. I could probably solve the case of the Lindbergh baby more easily than I could my own goddamned life problems. Everything's just weird and I'm all jittery and jumpy (especially since I started watching American Horror Story on a regular basis...creepy shit) and I'm sore and car-less. Generally, I just need a hug. And some method of keeping the tip of my nose warm...seriously, it's numb and no other part of my body is this cold. Have they invented nose-warmers yet? A quick google search reveals that they have. Only you have to knit them yourself and they look like those hawk-beak death masks or like you have a nasal STD and have to contain it via mask. Wait, they have an entire website just for hand-knitted nose-warmers? And the shit costs $17 bucks a pop? I think I'll just stick to pinching it to try and warm it up.

I guess the moral of this story is that it's a full-time job to be jealous of other people's happiness. Well, I already have two part time jobs, which I figure equals one whole job, so I'm going to quit the fake one that involves the draining of my emotional well-being. I'll let you know how that goes. In the meantime, I'm just going to look at wedding dresses online for the imaginary wedding I'm not having. I'll keep you posted.

I'm going to round off this whole fiasco by throwing a shout-out.
ERL- we met three years ago today. I loved you then, a year from then, and two years from then. Now...we're just sort of existing peacefully in each others' lives. I do love you, but in the same way love your car after being in an accident with it (which is strangely fitting I suppose): you're bound together because you survived so much shit together. And baby, we went to hell and back twice and have the scars to prove it. You'll always be in my heart, and I'll always be there for you, no matter what the situation or circumstances. I won't break that promise. The difference is now, I'm free and I have my closure. I can come and go, if you will. I think soulmates exist, but not in the sappy, stupid way, they are the people that you love unconditionally who come into your life when you need them the most. You're a soulmate to me because at that time in my life, I couldn't have possibly loved anyone more than I did you, and I needed that so badly. You were the life preserver I needed to cling on to so badly when I felt like no one in the whole world would ever love me. I think you needed me too, but you'd never say that. I kind of worry about you, because I know you keep your problems inside, but you have my number and you know you can text me if the going gets tough. I used to say that I never gave up on you, and I guess it's good that I didn't, because if I had, we never would have reached this peaceful plateau. I'm gonna think of you today and smile, not because I'm still clinging on to some sappy memory, but because I'm finally free and whole and happy. Well, not quite as happy as I should be, but I'll be there in time. I wish you all the happiness in the whole world, and I wish from the very bottom of my heart that you'll find happiness and peace and love in your life. Any girl would be more than absolutely lucky to call you her own, and any girl that passes you up didn't deserve you in the first place. I'm fortunate I got to have you for a small amount of time. This is goodbye, in a way, to the way I used to feel about you. I felt this day would be a good day for a proper send-off. But it's never goodbye, only see you later, because I hope we'll be in each others' lives for many, many years to come. I won't ever forget you, my dear. Lots of love. -J

God, I didn't want that to be gushy and it totally was. Ahhh, sorry. Oh well.


I can't put an ending on this quite yet.

An Open Letter to all the Men I Currently Have Feelings For

Title's pretty self-explanatory.

In no specific order:

• Aqua Eyes:  I can't even believe I'm writing this. I resisted it as long as I could, I really did. I swore up and down and sideways that I wasn't going to fall for another manager. But here I am, giggling like a fucking fourteen year old every time you look my way. I don't know what it is about you; something that I can't quite put my finger on intrigues me. I'm usually pretty good at reading people, but you--just when I think I have you all figured out, it turns out there's a million more pieces to your puzzle. I know I shouldn't. I know I have to stop. Not just because you have a girlfriend, but because me and you would never happen. Plus, like I told you, you're guarded. Whether it's me, or the fact that we're employee and manager, I don't know. I have this theory that your walls are really made of butter, and you're just waiting for someone to melt them. I'm scared I'm not good enough for you to want me to push those walls away. Blame it on ERL, I say. He started it all. This one, I'm gonna chalk up to a schoolgirl crush, since we did in fact go to school together. But the eyes. You've got to quit looking at me like that. And no, I really didn't realize your eyes were like, the deepest brown. But now I can't see anything else. 

• Ginger: First of all, fuck you. And not in the literal sense. Yeah, I wanted to. Maybe I could even see some relationship potential there. But you went and fucked that all up to hell. Oh, who the fuck am I kidding? I've always got one more chance for everyone. But I'm not gonna lie, I was pretty stung after you shot me down. It's not too often that I would consent to want to fuck someone, but way to make a girl feel like a loser for 1. doing the booty-calling (instead of being the booty call-ee) and 2. being attracted to you in the first place.  I don't know what's going to happen to me and you. I'm butt-hurt, to be quite honest; my pride is damaged. I thought we had a good little thing going on there, but I guess I was wrong. But that doesn't mean I don't still want your dick. Just get me drunk first, is all I'm saying. Now, let me make one thing clear. Just because I only want to fuck you doesn't mean I don't think you're good enough for a relationship. It just means my sexual attraction to you far exceeds your boyfriend potential. No offense. I'm sure you're an extremely nice dude, and I don't doubt for a second that you'd treat a girl well. But I promised myself I'd never fall for another stoner. Again, blame ERL. Plus, you said it yourself, you can't even take care of yourself, how could you possibly take care of me when I need it? Again, no offense. Plus, those soccer players get me in trouble. Speaking of...

• Bob-o: Where do I even start with you? There's so much pain. I'm so incredibly hurt and jealous, I can barely articulate it. I was waiting for you, damnit! And then you had to go and fuck it all up with that bitch. I guess she's alright (never met her, so I don't really know) but hear this: she'll never be me. I fucking loved you. Still do. But the fact that you were texting me up until like, three days before you were officially in a facebook relationship with her, that hurts. You wonder why I asked you if I was good enough for you (that seems to be a theme, doesn't it?)? Because it seems like I was only ever good enough for you in secret. She's good enough to be your girl, but I'm not? I want to know what she has that I don't. Because I want you. I want all of you, now and always...I want to be your first choice, not your fucking consolation prize. Hear me now though: I won't wait forever. I will always love you, but I will not be some backburner bitch until you're done with her and finally decide you want me. 

• Trick: Ahh, I saved the very best for last. I've been thinking about you a lot lately. I felt like such an idiot for texting you. I don't even know why I did it. I feel like you're throwing me a sympathy bone in saying we'll hang out. You know what? I'm still in love with you. I'm so sorry, but I am. I don't think I ever fell out. It's the way you used to look at me. Like we were the only two people in the whole world. I miss that...I miss you. I miss everything about you; your silly shout of a laugh, that nose twitch you do, the way you smell. I have so much to say to you that I really don't even know what to say. My thoughts are a jumbled mess. Sometimes I'm angry. Why did you come into my life if I can't have you? It hurts so much to care about someone and not be able to be with them. It's like you're dangling in front of me, just out of my reach. You...made me feel alive for the first time in such a long time. You know my secret and you didn't judge me. I felt so safe with you; like you'd never ever let anything bad happen to me. I feel like we just missed the mark, you and me. I'm constantly wondering, what if? What it I'd just met you a few months earlier, would we have had a shot before she came into the picture? I have a quote up on my board, and it says "One cannot petition the Lord with prayer." I put that up there, in part, because I so often found myself wishing and hoping some extraordinary circumstances would occur for me and you to come together. I've tried. I've tried to put you out of my mind, I've tried to move on, tell myself you're happy with someone else. But you always manage to creep into my thoughts. I can't help it--I want to be with you. I want you to want me. I want all those fantasies that play out in my head to come true. Am I selfish in wanting you to leave her and come be with me? Absolutely. But the heart wants what the heart wants. Am I so wrong in that? Am I so wrong as to deny my heart's desire? Am I so wrong to want you to take me to dinner, to hug me like you mean it, to tell me you think I'm beautiful, to just call you up and tell you about my day? I want all of that so badly, and I know could get anyone to tell me I'm pretty or bitch to about work after a long day. But...I want you. I wish, oh I wish so badly we could have just one chance.